List Of Pet Peeves Causes Pressure To Rise

September 25, 1985|By Bill Bond of the Sentinel Staff

Each of us has a list of pet peeves.

Usually they are little, insignificant things that normally wouldn't amount to a hill of beans. But they are irksome, nevertheless, and usually just enough to make the bottom number on my blood pressure reading show a slight rise.

The other day I was on my way to Tavares from Leesburg on U.S. Highway 441 when I saw in my rear-view mirror a Florida Highway Patrol cruiser, its blue light flashing, and two ambulances with red lights flashing coming up behind two vehicles that were behind me. As soon as it was safe I moved into the right lane, and off the roadway to the shoulder to allow the emergency vehicles to pass.

The drivers of the two vehicles behind me must have been sleep driving or thinking about a ski vacation. One thing for certain, they didn't have their motoring heads on straight.

The emergency vehicles were forced to go around the dingalings.

Motorists that refuse to give the right-of-way to emergency vehicles with flashing lights head my list of pet grievances.

I am not particularly fond of telephone recording devices, either, nor am I especially attracted to impatient callers who hang up without leaving a message. (Although I confess, I, too, have been tempted at times to commit the same act of rudeness instead of staying on hold and listening to recorded music or leaving a message.)

Parking lot crashers give me fits, too.

The other day I was waiting for an elderly woman to back her car out of a parking place at a shopping center. I guess she was having trouble latching her seatbelt or finding the ignition key. Whatever, it seemed like a few minutes passed before she finally eased out of the space.

As I waited for her to vacate the parking space, a loud noise drew my attention through my rear-view mirror. I turned my head for only a second to see what it was.

That one-second delay caused me to lose my parking place to a rude anvil head who pulled in front of me and boldy took the spot I had been waiting for. I gave the offending motorist my most ''you crumb bum, how dare you'' Rambo scowl. It had no effect. The elderly driver calmly got out of his car and, in cavalier fashion, avoided me as if I didn't exist. He walked briskly away through the parking lot to the supermarket.

At first I had evil thoughts such as putting a chocolate laxative in his gas tank or leaving a note on his windshield that I was an fraud investigator for the Social Security Administration and planned to to subpoena his bank records.

I looked around briefly for a policeman, though there is no state law that covers parking lot crashers.

Also high on my list of pet peeves is another type of motorist: the kind that pulls up right up behind just when I want to back into a horizontal parking place between two parked cars.

Although I honk my horn and wave them around so I can park, the motorist behind me stares dreamily into space, wondering what in the world I am waiting for.

Another pet peeve is getting something I didn't order at a drive-through window at a restaurant. I try to enunciate each word clearly and precisely.

Then what happens?

I arrive at the office or at home only to discover the double burger I ordered with lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise and pickle with a side order of large french fries has been reduced to a single cheeseburger with onion and a small order of fries.